


Itch

by Anuna



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Prompt Fill, Romance, actual happy skyeward in skyeward tag, soulmates trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 16:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3297215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anuna/pseuds/Anuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since Skye has seen his soulmate ink, she won't stop talking about it. And kissing. And there's only so much Grant can take.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Itch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nathyfaith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nathyfaith/gifts).



> Written for Nathyfaith's prompt "soulmates".

“So what happens if we kiss?” she says and Grant almost drops his plate. He'd glare at her, knowing well he would meet that infuriating smile and raised eyebrows that absolutely _drive him up the wall_ (can't she be serious about anything?) except then he would let her know she is pushing his buttons. 

And he knows better. 

“It's a common misconception that something remarkable would happen after a simple kiss,” he intones seriously, mustering all of his mentor – authority... and she is having none of it. When he sits on the sofa, she sits on the nearby chair, and he positively does not stare at the skin of her shoulder peeking out where her tunic has slipped. She looks utterly comfortable in her leggings and that too wide top, with her hair loose, more comfortable than he ever remembers feeling and the skin around his soulmate – ink is itching. 

“Oh really?” she says. 

“Really,” he replies and takes a bit of his sandwich. “It's a common myth.”

“Common myth,” she says, nodding and trying to hide that shit – eating grin. She's _mocking_ him, and she's not stopping, ever since she saw him bare chested in the med bay after that bullet graze. 

He sighs and puts his sandwich back on the plate, and Skye grabs it. 

“Hey!” he protests.

“Mmm,” she answers, giving him a look. “You make awesome sandwiches, Ward. There, another proof that you really are my soulmate. Everything a soulmate does is perfect.”

Grant really really wants to bang his head against a wall. 

“You're being perfectly infuriating right now,” he tells her. “Give me back my dinner.”

“Only if you kiss me first,” Skye answers. 

Grant is aware that his mouth is hanging open. That this tiny, stubborn, completely infuriating girl is somehow capable of doing something that best trained agents of any agency can – render him speechless or frustrate him to the point where he wants to pull his hair. 

“Only if I kiss you first,” he says. The ink drawing on his chest is burning, but he ignores this, of course. (He ignored the sensation ever since he opened the door to her van, and there she was, an identical ink drawing splashed across her wrist). 

Skye just gives him a daring look and takes another bite from his sandwich for a good measure, and the glare he is giving her does absolutely nothing.

(The same glare that usually sends people far, far away from him. Instead, Skye is looking at him like he is a particularly adorable teddy bear.) 

Okay, if she wants to play a game, he can play a game. 

He stands up. It takes half of his normal step to the chair where she's sitting. He takes the sandwich from her, gently but firmly, and the plate and sets it all aside. Her look is amused, questioning, laced with mirth and expectation. 

“What?” she asks and she's still chewing. Which is gross. But he's thinking about the probably very stupid thing he's about to do. He rolls his eyes at her for a good measure. 

“I am not going to kiss you while you're chewing. Eat your food,” he says, thinking how he sounds like his grandmother. 

She swallows and grins. 

“All done and ready,” she says. 

He leans down. He is at least twice bigger than her and he's keeping his face serious, and yet she is still smiling and giving him this look full of warm, fun things, bound together with fundamental trust. 

“What?” she says. “Are you going to hover over there or kiss me?” then she says in a deep, mock voice that's supposed to imitate him, “Do you know how to kiss girls, Agent Ward? Have you ever kissed -” 

That's where he draws the line, because his ego can't stand it any more, and her lips are just too distracting. 

But Skye ruins it. Just like everyone else, she ruins it by pulling him by the shirt collar and he nearly topples over her, but the point is – the point is – she kisses him and it's like complete shock to all of his systems. 

Her kiss is just like her – stubborn, flashy, infuriating and captivating; so full of confidence that he can do nothing but follow. She grins against his lips and captures his lips again, more insistent this time and he can barely remain standing up. Skye solves that by pulling him down, and they end up in a heap of limbs in the huge chair, and Skye keeps rearranging their positions until she is on top of him and his hands are on her sides, and in her hair and trying desperately to remain above her butt. 

Skye has no such reservations, though. She grinds against him and he feels like he's on fire. 

There's no instant magic he's heard about, or the sudden ability to see and feel her life and thoughts and whatnot – but there _is_ an overwhelming physical need to keep her close and keep kissing her, and the need for air seems unimportant. Skye bites his lip and he doesn't only see stars, he can _feel_ them bursting with light under his eyelids. She opens her mouth and he's pushing his tongue inside and each of his senses is chanting her name. He feels irrevocably tied to her, like a half that's just become a whole – as pathetic as that still sounds in his trained, practical mind. 

She pulls away for air and he's _panting_. He kissed girls and never before did he feel like he just ran a marathon. And like he wants another one. Right now. 

Skye kisses the tip of his nose and grins. 

“So, nothing will happen, hmm? Common myth?” 

“Shut up,” he says. 

“Nope,” she answers. 

“Fine,” he says. 

If she won't stop talking (and teasing him) he knows just the method to put an end to it.


End file.
